Ten Faces, One Past and a Convoluted Future
by xForbiddenLoveBitesx
Summary: Reality is a lie, the future is the past, dreams are just dreams and roses cannot last. With the Doctor floating aimlessly through the stars and Rose held captive by unknown perpetrators and her own dreams, will the Doctor realise what matters most? Will her captors bringend to life as they know it? Just how can a broken man's consequences be shattered - forever?
1. Chapter 1: The Fall

**A/N: **

**The following, although relevant to this piece of Fanfiction, is not an author's note that you have to read, just an explanation. So, feel free to skip this author's note, if that is what you want to do, and dive straight in to the story. **

**So, those of you who are still with me, this is my first Fanfic in this fandom. Although I am not new to the revived series of Doctor Who, (the series beginning in 2005, with Christopher Eccleston playing the ninth Doctor) I am new to writing Fanfics about the show. A few months ago, I trailed through the Doctor Who Fanfiction archive and I immediately felt inspired to write my own. **

**That being said, I have – unwittingly – taken a huge task upon myself by writing this. Just writing down all the thoughts and ideas I had pertaining this story, took longer than expected and became a little complicated and full of plot twists that my head hurt just a little. Now, I don't know whether it will be that confusing to you, my readers (if I get any), or if I'm just a little stupid, so we'll see. **

**If, whilst reading this story, you feel like any of the characters are behaving out of character, please tell me in a review. I would hate to disappoint potential readers with the lack of in-character details. **

**DISCLAIMER: The BBC owns 'Doctor Who', its dialogues, plot-lines and character names. All other plot-lines, characterizations, and details belong to the author: xForbiddenLoveBitesx **

**Happy reading…**

The Doctor watches as his oldest, greatest and deadliest enemy is plunged into oblivion.

A strong wind whistles in his ears as they sail past, accompanied by the sound of smashing glass as Daleks and Cybermen alike are pulled forcefully through the windows of The Torchwood Tower and into the expanding invisible gap on the wall. The Doctor grips his magnaclamp with more strength, struggling to stay in place due to the pull of the Void.

A sense of glee washes over the Doctor at the downfall of his oldest enemy, a triumphant high that always leaves him frivolous. "The breach is open! Into the Void! Ha!" He shouts, struggling himself to even hear as the wind continues to roar.

The Doctor glances over at Rose and finds her beaming at him, the wind whipping her hair around her face. In that moment, the Doctor is immensely grateful that she is still here. His actions a few minutes ago – and the whole of their time together – should have made her stay away; it should have made her walk away from this precarious life he leads and remain safe – and happy he forced himself to think – away from him. For a reason that he denies himself into believing every second she is with him, his hearts had clenched painfully at the thought of never being able to see her again. He would never again hear her delightful laughter ring like pealing bells throughout the TARDIS, never again see the way that her eyes lit up in anticipation for an adventure, or her smile, always warm and full of compassion that it made him want to grin along with her. Yet, after sending her away – again – she returned to him, joking as she always does to lighten the mood. Time and time again, he sends her away, and every single time she returns to him, whatever the situation. The Doctor was starting to think that they really were inseparable, as Rose had suggested.

As soon as he had thought this, he knew he would regret it. An old Earth saying popped into his head at that given moment, a thought he wished to banish: '_Don't say that, you'll jinx it._' Things will almost certainly go wrong if you wish they won't. It was an old, unforgivable law the Universe abides by, a law that was spread across universes and galaxies, making the strongest of men regret even the simplest of hopes.

The spark of electricity sounding through the room is the first indicator. The smile on Rose's face disappears as she checks her leaver, it slowly moving back into the off position. The Doctor's face moulds into an expression of dismay as the computer announces 'Offline' and the suction from the Void lessens, the smile that previously graced his face long gone.

"Hold on!" The Doctor pleads as Rose reaches for the leaver.

She strains to reach it, keeping a steadfast grip on the magnaclamp as she stretches towards it. Her fingers brush the leaver, yet she is too far away to pull it back into position. The Doctor watches, his eyes flickering from his companion to the breach, a sense of dread curdling his stomach. His eyes are focused on Rose as she falls into the leaver, her grip on the magnaclamp forgotten. He grips his magnaclamp tighter, watching in desolation as she struggles to pull the leave back towards her, his breathing increasing as he watches on, helpless to the events unfolding. Rose slides across the floor, changing tactics, and starts to push the leaver away from her, all the while trying to keep from loosening her grip and falling into oblivion. She whimpers in exertion, the leaver finally sliding back into place. As it nears, Rose looks up at the Doctor, and he sees determination set into her eyes. She pushes the leaver into position and the suction increases again, dragging in the Daleks and Cybermen once more.

The Doctor looks over to his companion in fear, reaching out an arm as if to steady her, shouting in desperation, "Rose, hold on!" He can see the effort it is taking her to do as he asks, her whimpers and cries shattering his hearts. "HOLD ON!" He screams, his emotions overwhelming him. The Doctor watches in terror as she cries out, her grip slipping as her body is pulled towards the Void. "ROSE!" He screams out her name as she flails, her arms still reaching towards the leaver, her own screams echoing in the room.

A shape appears in the room, forming in front of the Doctor's eyes to reveal Pete Tyler, arms outstretched to catch Rose. Rose, now safely in the arms of Pete, glances over her shoulder at the Doctor, her face unreadable in the second it was there. Pete pushes the button on his dimension jumper, vanishing, sending him and Rose back into the parallel world. The Doctor just stares at the place they had been, his breathing laboured as he comprehends what has just happened. The breach closes itself, with a noise like rustling paper, and the wind slowly fades into nothing.

The Doctor, having let go of his magnaclamp, walks slowly up to the wall. He reaches out one palm towards it, laying it flat against the white expanse, holding it there. His head joins his hand as he tries – in vain – to reach his companion on the other side, any way to be closer to her. After a few minutes, he lets his hand slide down the wall, a thousand thoughts running through his head all at once.

One thought is in the forefront though, stabbing at his mind like a knife, a painful ache that tackled his senses, emerging victorious in their defeat of his hope, his happiness, and his joy.

Rose is gone…

And there is no way of getting her back…

**A/N: **

**So, there you have it, my first chapter in this multi-chapter story that I hope you will continue reading. **

**I would like to clarify that this is only the first chapter of this story and there is a lot more to come. I know I left out some dialogue in the Doomsday scene but I wanted to covey emotions more than what they were saying – if anything – and so I missed some of it out. **

**I will hopefully see you next chapter and, if you have time, click the review button for me. I know this is said over and over but reviews honestly do help and brighten my day considerably, so please could you review this chapter for me. **

**xForbiddenLoveBitesx **


	2. Chapter 2: A Disturbing Reality

**A/N:**

**The second chapter is here! I posted this at the same time as I did the first so you would know where I am (roughly) going with this story. **

**DISCLAIMER: The BBC owns 'Doctor Who', its dialogues, plot-lines and character names. All other plot-lines, characterizations, and details belong to the author: xForbiddenLoveBitesx **

**Hold on tight people, we're about to enter an AU! (With the Doctor's driving you're certainly going to need to grip tight.)**

**Happy reading…**

The Doctor wakes in a cold sweat.

_Rose…_

He groans in pain, a tender thumping drumming out a rhythm inside his head. Attempting to raise his hand to press it to his temple, he finds the movement is obstructed. He tries again, but the movement is again halted, his arm never lifting more than about a centimeter from its position on the hard surface underneath him. The Doctor, curious of his surroundings, opens his eyes slowly. The action was to no prevail; his eyes just shut tight again, exhausted and heavy. He waits – letting his eyes adjust to the action they hadn't performed in he didn't know how long – before attempting to open them again. On the third attempt, his eyes obeyed, allowing him to survey his surroundings.

It was dark, a creeping gloom that hid in the corners little children were afraid of and haunted the soul and mind in its persistence and oblivion. A human with even 20/20 perfect vision would not be able to see through the murk, but with his heightened Time Lord senses, the Doctor can just make out the outline of the room – as he now knows it to be – that has him imprisoned. Craning his neck just so, the Doctor is able to observe the object he is laying on. It looks to be made of a shiny metal – steel or iron is his first guess – and is a bed of some sort, like the kind that autopsy patients were typically depicted laying on. Thick white bands are wrapped around his body, protruding from the underside of the bed and reaching across him to rest under the other side. The strips of fabric started at his ankles, a space of about 5cm before the next one straps his shins to the bed. The pattern continues, stopping at his chest, restricting his breathing ever so slightly – until his respiratory bypass kicked in.

The Doctor draws in a deep, uneven breath, the air stinging his lungs. The next breath he takes, the air sticks to the inside of his lungs, drowning them and, for the first time since awakening, he notices the humidity of the room. The damp air clung to his skin, the perspiration beads now noticeable that he knows what he is looking for. His clothes – the typical attire of suit and tie – were stuck to his skin, kept there by the humidity and heat.

Deciding that now was not the time to worry about the fate of his clothes, the Doctor turns his attention to the situation at hand; just how did he get here, and where is _here_? He enters his own mind, a thing he rarely does nowadays for fear of reawakening old memories and painful remembrances, sifting through his most recent memories, the ones of this regeneration. He comes to a stop as the end of one becomes murky and clouded, almost watery as if looking at it through a surface of water. He mentally pushes harder against the barrier, focusing all of his energy on breaking down the obstruction. The barrier visibly shatters, breaking into a million pieces as the Doctor's mental capacity triumphs. The memory is whole, the pieces of the puzzle sorting themselves around him until the picture is restored.

What the Doctor remembers frightens him more than his greatest enemy, more than himself.

He and Rose had just finished watching the 2012 Olympics, laughing along together as their usual appetizer of chips was handed to them by a smiling cafe owner, Rose rolling her eyes as she was forced to pay for them – again – due to the Doctor's absence of money.

"You'd think -" she had started, whilst handing over the money to the cafe owner and smiling in thanks. "That with those pockets of yours you'd be able to fit some spare change in there." She had teased, smiling that tongue-in-teeth smile that stopped his hearts – not that he would admit it.

"Well," the Doctor had started, grinning at his companion and getting ready to delve into a long explanation that he was sure she wouldn't understand, thus forcing her to agree with him, turning away from her to start his speech. "... and that is why I can't fit any money in my pockets; I mean, the universe might implode or something." He joked, expecting her to laugh at his ridiculousness, like she always did. Instead, he was met with silence. "Rose?" The Doctor had asked, turning back around to face her. He had just enough time to see Rose, unconscious, being dragged away by a figure in a hooded robe. "Take your hands off her!" He had shouted in anger, making a move to retrieve his companion. The act of chivalry was to no avail, a pair of seemingly bodiless arms grabbing his own to lock them in place behind him. He had struggled against the grip, watching helplessly as Rose's body was carted away, only ceasing when his companion and her captor were out of sight.

That was the last thing he remembered before his vision had dimmed to black and his mind had shut down, the only thought on his mind of a one Rose Tyler.

The Doctor pulls out of his reverie abruptly, a sense of loss, longing and grief sweeping over him for the second time since waking up. The emotions dragged him under their tidal wave, drowning him in their entirety. He feels his mind slowly shutting itself off, a numbing blackness sweeping over it, his eyes getting heavier and heavier as they succumb to the exhaustion caused by the retrieval of this memory.

Before he gives in to the darkness, he makes a vow to himself, a vow to Rose.

Wherever she is, however far that may be, he _will_ find her.

**A/N:**

**So, there is chapter 2, still a little on the short side, but I have a lot more planned with future chapters. **

**I hope that cleared up where I am going with this Fanfic, because I want you to be clear on the first two before I confuse you with the later ones. (Plot twists galore.)**

**Again, I know this is said over and over again until you're sick of it, but I'm going to say it: Please review! I'd really love to know what you thought of this chapter especially. (If you couldn't tell, I'm a little nervous as to what response this will get!)**

**Next chapter will be posted soon, **

**xForbiddenLoveBitesx**


	3. Chapter 3: Of Nightmares in the Dark

**A/N:**

**Thank you so much to TenRose4ever (sorry for confusing you already, but I'm glad you liked the chapters) and TheAstronautic (I hope I don't disappoint) for reviewing. **

**DISCLAIMER: The BBC owns 'Doctor Who', its dialogues, plot-lines and character names. All other plot-lines, characterizations, and details belong to the author: xForbiddenLoveBitesx **

**Happy reading…**

From the second she enters it, Rose knows she is in a dream. The scene in front of her had a filmy quality, like a sheet of translucent paper had been thrown in front of her eyes, forcing her to see the world obstructed.

Rose moves closer towards the scene, the people's faces becoming clearer as she focuses on them. As soon as Rose began to focus on her surroundings, they were cut from her view, the people only visible as the events unfold. Taking notice of the people more closely, she observes that there are three of them. There is a woman who looks to be in her twenties, her styled blonde hair reaching just past her shoulders and her lavender attire typical of someone from the sixties. A man is standing near her, also looking to be in his twenties, wearing unadorned clothes, his dark hair short and cropped. The third person looks a lot older than his friends; – Rose assumes that's what they are – his hair grey and his face aged. He wears a black ankle length coat, the item covering a yellow waistcoat that barely peeked out from underneath the coat, fingerless gloves adorn his hands, worn and faded. A simple black hat sat atop his head, forcing his grey hair to frame his face.

The older man walks over to something, reaching out his hand to grasp something and, as he does, a whirring sound fills the space around them, mechanical yet enchanting. The action that caused the sudden change in sound leaves Rose puzzled as to what he had done, as she cannot see the object he desires to touch, his hand floating uselessly in the air, reminiscent of a mime act. In a different circumstance, Rose would have found this amusing, but the gnawing sense of dread that is curdling her stomach drowns the amusement. Something bad is going to happen…

Sure enough, not five seconds later, Rose watches as the older man stumbles backwards, his feet loosing their balance, careening him towards the floor. His back hits the ground and his friends turn as Rose shouts out in shock. For a second, she thinks they may have heard her but it becomes clear all they heard was the thump of the man's body hitting the floor.

It becomes clear, as the woman shouts out an exclamation, running towards the man that had collapsed, that Rose's sense of sound has now also been obstructed, the earlier sound of whirring gone and the woman's pleas deafened.

Rose watches, an odd sense of unfathomable grief overwhelming her, as the man does not respond, still motionless on the floor. Rose wants to shout at him to wake up and stand; to get her out of this godforsaken dream and save the world. _Wait_ Rose thinks, her sudden train of thought confusing her _where did that come from?_ _Save the world?_ _How do I –? Just who is this man?_

Her mind becomes increasingly unclear, the scene in front of her blurring, fading out of existence as she mourns for the loss of the strange man. An image appears in front of her, faded around the edges, and she struggles to make it out. It looks like…

Rose wakes in a cold sweat.

She breathes in a deep breath, the oxygen filling her lungs. Her eyes flutter open, their lid heavy, to find that, as she inhales, a plastic bag deflates and, as she exhales, it inflates. Her eyes lock on to movement in her peripheral vision and she watches as it moves around, the person walking with purpose to their destination. Gradually, the object underneath Rose rises, tilting her to an almost standing position.

Rose's heart rate increases, the pounding of her blood rushing through her ears, her breathing becoming erratic as she observes the scene in font of her.

Ten hooded figures stand before her, their faces covered by the shadow of the hood, their robes reaching towards the floor. The room was dimly lit, but, through a tiny gap in the wall in front of her, Rose can see the expanse of wasteland outside her makeshift prison, the land dead and dry, and the suns dampening her skin, even through the walls.

One of the hooded figures takes a step towards Rose, his hand outstretched.

Rose screams.

**A/N: **

**There you have chapter three! I know it's a little short (again) but the first four chapters are just where Rose and the Doctor are, how they think they got there and trying to figure out a way back. We get into the good stuff later, I promise!**

**Again, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter, so if you could review for me, that would be lovely! **

**Until we meet again: Allons-y! **

**xForbiddenLoveBitesx **


	4. Chapter 4: Dimming Hope

**A/N:**

**I'm sorry this is so late; I had an awful case of writer's block over the past three weeks, a ton of schoolwork and lots of family outings. Thankfully, my good friend Charlotte produced a writing prompt exercise for me to stretch my fingers to. Thank you Charlotte! I might even post it. **

**Thank you to writeforeverforlife for reviewing (I am sorry I have already confused you but I hope this chapter kind of clears things up. Thanks for attempting to stick with it though; I really appreciate it!). **

**Thank you to everyone who favourite'd and/or follows this story!**

**This chapter is ****_heavily_**** influenced by the Series 5 Episode 'Amy's Choice'. (Do you kind of see where I'm going now writeforeverforlife?)**

**DISCLAIMER: The BBC owns 'Doctor Who', its dialogues, plot-lines and character names. All other plot-lines, characterizations, and details belong to the author: xForbiddenLoveBitesx**

**Happy reading…**

The Doctor's head spins his vision blurry as he wakes to the sweltering heat of his prison and tries to become accustomed – yet again – to the dim light of the room. He blinks twice, the feeling of unshed tears leaving them dry and angry.

The Doctor cranes his neck, stretching the taut muscles there and trying to see the expanse of his body, assessing the situation. Right, he thinks rationally, first he has to rid himself of these restraints. He wiggles his left arm, worming it up to his chest, ignoring the stabbing pains traveling up the length of it and lays his arm flat on the surface of his chest. He then reaches, slowly so as not to hurt his arm further, into the inside right pocket of his suit jacket. He fumbles around for a minute, lost in its depths, before his fingers clasp around a hard tube, the metal encasing it cool in the humidity of the room. He draws out his Sonic Screwdriver with dexterity, placing it on his chest in order to give his tiring arms a break.

After a few double heartbeats of rest, the Doctor sets back to work, picking up the screwdriver placed on his chest and rising it as far upwards as the restraints allow. He aims the instrument to his right, at the start of the first strip of fabric, and finds the right setting. The tip of the instrument lights up a brilliant blue, flooding the dim room in an artificial glow. The Doctor hears the fabric tear with a satisfying rip and his chest rises and falls more deeply, no longer restricted, free to breathe. He sets to work on the other ten, his muscles aching to move as they break free of their prisons, his arm becoming increasingly heavy, exhausted by the exertion needed for the task. His eyes began to feel the same, drooping ever so slightly as he finished ridding himself of the last obstruction. This, he thinks, is highly irregular for him. He rarely gets tired, not with his Time Lord genes and, when he does, he never needs to sleep for that long before his body feels completely energized and will need no more sleep for at least a week. So why does he feel so exhausted now?

He sits up, despite the pounding of his head and the drooping of his eyelids, and deposits the screwdriver once more into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He swings his legs around the meet the edge of the bed, and places his feet on the ground. With one sound movement, he pushes himself off the bed and rocks on the balls of his feet, gaining his balance.

He stays that way for a few minutes – two minutes, forty-two seconds and thirteen nanoseconds to be precise – and surveys his surroundings properly, now that he can see them fully. After failing to see much due to the darkness of the room, the Doctor gets out his Sonic Screwdriver again and turns the setting so it will glow even brighter. The Doctor, once he is able to see the expanse of the room, drags in a deep breath, curiosity and fear mingling.

He walks, with unsteady legs, to one of the four walls, crouching down to inspect the substance smeared over every available surface. Putting his glasses on with his free hand, the dread sets slowly as he confirms his suspicions on the substance.

It is small when individual, tiny like a grain of rice, and is iridescent, the way at which you look at it changing the colour you perceive it as. Thousands of them covered the walls; thousands of specks of psychic pollen stolen from the Candle Meadows of Karass don Slava. The heat in the room... The Doctor's mind is working at 100mph, trying to piece together the evidence like pieces of a puzzle. The heat, teamed with the pollen would create...

A dream-state.

It had all been a dream.

Losing Rose, the Daleks getting sucked into the Void; it was all a figment of his imagination. The psychic pollen, a mind parasite, feeds on everything dark within you. The darkest things in the Doctor were his age-old enemy, appearing again and again through his timeline, cropping up like a bad penny, destroying everything in their path and the other, the thought of losing his current companion. It was something he knew would be inevitable, like the rising of the sun, but still he tries to deny it, still he tries to cling to happiness, to the bubble of joy that Rose emanates.

The Doctor, with a heart no longer heavy but brimming with hope, straightens up from his crouched position, screwdriver in hand. Before he had even made a move to walk to the door of the room, he was almost crouched again, a deep gut-wrenching feeling tearing up his insides as he doubles over. No sooner had it come, before it left and the Doctor was left questioning his own sanity as he returned to normal. With a shake of his head, he makes his way to the door, screwdriver lighting the way. The door, surprisingly, isn't locked and turns easily within his grasp.

He swings the door open.

Almost immediately, he is shutting the door, gasping for breath in the room. The sight he was met with on opening the door was what he normally saw from the comfort of the Console room in the TARDIS, displayed on a screen. What he saw was the depths of space, a solitary star far out in the distance, a burning sun a million light years away.

He stays that way, staring at the door and does the only thing he can think to do in this moment: call for help. He reaches with his mind, searching past stars and planets, suns and moons, for his only rescue, his only home now. He finds, to his fear and anger, that the connection is clouded, much like his memories were and he only has a vague impression of Her in his mind.

The Doctor is alone, with no way of being rescued, and has no way of finding Rose...

**A/N:**

**So there you have chapter four; a little on the short side again.**

**Now, there are probably a lot of things that are wrong with this chapter. 1) I'm not sure if Time Lords need that much sleep, or if, after sleeping, they have enough energy to last them a week so that is probably wrong. 2) The Tenth Doctor has probably never seen the Candle Meadows on Karass don Slava, but let's say, for my story's sake, that he has. So, if you can't live with those mistakes I'm sorry, but if I don't have them it kind of ruins the whole story. **

**I'm not entirely sure, apart from the fact that the three of you that have reviewed are confused, how this story is going. I would really appreciate, if anyone reviews, if you could put in a review what I'm doing right or wrong. **


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